Sleepwalker
by Balloon Animal
Summary: Vince finds himself the unwitting victim of Howard's nocturnal activities. Not entirely to his displeasure


Hello, usually I don't publish my more mature stories here on FF, but what the hell. I find bad writing far more offensive. Enjoy, you pervs.

* * *

It had been an easy day at the Nabootique.

Of course, in Vince's world, almost every day was an easy day.

Howard often remarked at Vince's uncanny way of disregarding any calamity that turned up at his door.

Vince called it the secret to success.

Howard called it idiocy.

Nevertheless, Howard also seemed to be in a reasonable mood when they both retired to the bedroom that night. It was a ritual that both of them had developed over the years. Howard would always dress, back turned from Vince, into his blue striped pyjamas (he had seven identical pairs), while Vince would chatter inanely about his latest interest in the world of style and trend.

Howard would scoff; Vince would tease until, eventually, the cycle lead into a crimp. At that point they would crawl into their individual beds and bid each other a good sleep.

It had become so second nature, so comfortable that Vince couldn't even remember his last night away from Howard.

Howard would always be the first to fall asleep. It was soothing to watch such a high-strung man succumb to slumber. The permanent etch in his brow would soften, his chest would rise and fall and his breath transform to soft snores.

It was beautiful.

Vince would always like to snuggle under the duvet and peer through a gap in the blankets while trying not to be too obvious. Howard had never noticed. In fact, he slept so deeply that Vince was able to secretly cut and _blow dry_ Howard's craggy mane on various occasions.

But tonight Vince was content. He watched Howard until he felt sleep tug at his own eyes and was comforted to know that the routine would continue in the morning.

Someone was pulling at his pants.

Yes, that was what it definitely felt like, but it was distant, muted...

It was annoyingly distracting; especially when he had an audience to perform before. The keytar hung heavy in his hands, and his two metre beehive hairdo swayed back jarring his neck.

The crowd began to boo. His composure started to crack. This didn't happen to the lead singer of the world's greatest neo-electro-punk-rock-goth-mod band! He tried desperately with a jammin' solo to swing the Audience back in his favour, but that peculiar tugging at his hips had become too disturbing to ignore.

"Whuh?" his cracked open his bleary eyes and waited for the dark room to regain focus while the last remnant of his dream faded away.

What he immediately noticed was a large figure looming over him. The unexpected shock of it jolted him awake and he tried to push the broad chest of his assailant away. He scrambled up the mattress and the headboard clattered. He quickly discovered that a hand hooked into the elastic of his pyjama pants was impairing his movements.

As his eyes adjusted to the darkness he began to recognise familiar features about the intruder. The gaudy cotton pyjamas, the slightly sagged facial features, the inherent musk of tea and pencil shavings; Vince pressed a palm against his chest and heaved a sigh.

"Howard, what the bloody hell do you think you're doing? I nearly shat myself."

A heavy silence hung in the air, punctuated only by the heavy breaths of Vince. He awkwardly moved to the side and once more became acutely aware of the thumb hooked into his pants which had dragged them down past his hip bone.

"Listen," he whispered nervously when it became clear he wasn't getting an answer from Howard. "You've done some pretty creepy stuff in the past but I think you've outdone yourself tonight." He gave a wry grin, and hoped that Howard would back off.

There was no response; just the dark figure of Howard Moon kneeling over his very confused friend.

Vince fiddled with the sheets waiting for the punch line to come. What this some sort of bizarre practical joke that would only make sense in Howard's mind? Or perhaps this was Howard's payback for the time that Vince broke his jazz record collection and redesigned the shards into a masterful artistic mosaic handbag. If so then why didn't Howard just put Vince's hand in a bowl of warm water and smear shaving cream on his face like a normal person?

Still, none of that felt right. The Howard that was looming over him didn't feel right. Something was thick in the air and making Vince more uncomfortable by the second.

"Okay Howard," he said calmly and gently tried to prise the offending hand off his pants. "This is a bit weird, even for you-"

As soon as his fingers brushed the hand there was a flurry of movement. His wrists were grabbed and splayed apart.

Howard used his weight to force Vince down into the mattress, pressing their hips together and consequently caused the bed springs to dip and squeak.

It shook the breath from Vince. He gaped up at Howard's uncharacteristic act of aggression.

The scarce lighting of the room had cast a shadow across Howard's eyes giving him a sinister illusion that they were nothing but dark empty pits. For the first time in the history of their friendship, Vince was actually, genuinely beginning the fear the man.

He tested the leeway Howard had given his wrists. Yep. Tight as a vice. He grimaced while his simple mind garnered ideas on how to wriggle out of this situation. Howard could occasionally be agreeable to reason, so it was worth a shot.

"Listen, if this is about the handbag thing, I _did_ say I was sorry, so, um, you can just back off any time now. I'm beginning to think you want to bum me." He gave a wry smirk.

It was at that point he felt Howard's very prominent erection pressing into his hip.

Vince swallowed, slowly looked down before snapping his head back up." Oh my god you _are_ trying to bum me!"

It wasn't like Vince had never found himself in a situation like this before. Considering his popularity and reputation he did encounter the odd freak every now and then – in fact it was an unusual week if he hadn't been sexually assaulted at least twice.

But this was _Howard_. The most asexual, sexually stunted, inhibited man that had ever walked the face of the planet. You couldn't mention sex without him going red in the face and even the slightest suggestive glance from a girl would turn him into a stuttering imbecile. He had even learned from personal experience that Howard would misconstrue any sign of affection as a proclamation of undying love. Vince (and every person on the planet except Howard) could see that behind all that false bravado was a very insecure man.

Yet here he was, hovering over him with very clear intentions.

A part of Vince wanted to resist. Not only was this wrong, depraved and borderline rape but the thought of doing it with Howard was so, so… _uncool_.

However, before he struggled and screamed bloody murder, his mind paused to consider the whole situation. Yes, Howard was his best friend and had been for as long as he could remember. Sure, doing anything sexual would most likely create an irreparable awkward tension in their relationship that would destroy everything they had ever worked for.

But, he had to admit, a wild animalistic beast of a Howard dominating and taking him in the night was actually kind of hot…

They were on a precipice and Vince knew that it was time to make decision.

Vince sucked in a breath and summoned enough will to experimentally grind his hips against Howard's. He was surprised and relieved to find that the grip on his wrists slackened. He now had the freedom to move his hands and trail them up the broad torso before him. He undid the buttons of those atrocious blue pyjamas to let his fingers caress the warm chest beneath. He was thrilled that Mr. 'don't ever touch me' was allowing him this rare privilege.

The more Vince touched Howard, the huskier Howard's breath became.

Howard hooked his arms under Vince's armpits and in an impressive display of strength hoisted the smaller man upright so that Vince was straddling his thighs.

"Oh!" Vince yelped in surprise, but eagerly adjusted to the new position.

Howard rocked his hips in a rhythm that Vince was happy to imitate. He took his time to creep his hands beneath Howard's open pyjama top and with some minor effort, divested it from the man. To be able to wrap his arms around his friend and trace his fingers across that body - exploring muscle and smelling skin - was an experience he was enjoying far too much.

"Ooh, wow!" He crooned when Howard gave a particularly forceful thrust upwards. He closed his eyes and panted, craving even more contact. He lifted his arms to pull his own slinky top off, and revelled in the heat they shared as their bare chests were pressed together. "Mmm" he couldn't help himself. He latched his mouth onto Howard's neck and sucked hard. His hands gripped the undulating muscles coiling beneath hot skin. He couldn't remember the last time he had been with someone that took such control to make him feel so completely, wonderfully at their mercy. Thoughts floated to his mind as kissed and bit a wet trail down Howard's shoulder. It was remarkable how different this Howard was. He was confident, controlling and - dare he say it - sexy.

In fact, it was almost like it wasn't Howard at all. That was logical. How could this possibly be the Howard he knew? Something was different and it was causing unease in the back of his mind that Vince couldn't quite shake.

It wasn't until Howard's hands slithered down to cup and squeeze his buttocks that Vince decided to deal with those feelings the in the most responsible way he knew how.

He ignored them.

"Ohh" He moaned as he wriggled and squirmed, getting impatient at the slow pace. He daringly slunk a hand beneath the elastic front of Howard's pyjama bottoms for an experimental grope. It was thrilling to take hold of the erection that had been pressing so persistently into his thigh. He gave it a few firm strokes and a wide grin stretched across his face. This must have been the right thing to do, because, before he knew it, he found his back flush against his headboard and a hot ragged breath against his throat.

Howard pushed his legs apart insistently and Vince's spine tingled with anticipation.

The darkness made it hard to see any detail. Howard's face was still masked by shadow, so Vince raised his hand to trace a stubbled jaw. The loss of sight heightened and electrified his other senses. He breathed in that intoxicating masculine scent. He felt his own heart pound like a paddle ball in his chest. His hands followed a path down that strong body, feeling every sinew, every patch of hair, down further, a spiral around a navel, until, he reached beneath the elastic of his own pants to take both of their weeping cocks in hand.

He was so turned on it was hard to breathe.

"Do you want to fuck me?" He whispered.

Howard leaned his body closer and uttered a deep-throated sound that could only be described as a growl. It made ever hair on Vince's body stand up straight and his eyes grow wide in alarm. A peculiar silence punctuated the moment and then –

_RRRrriiiiiiiippppp!_

"What?" Vince looked down in horror to discover that Howard, in an act of pure vandalism, had torn his designer boxer shorts clean off.

"Howard you berk! Those were Peter Alexander originals!" He cried in despair. But he was quick to forgive when Howard pressed himself against Vince's now completely naked body.

Firm hands took hold of Vince's calves and positioned them so that his legs were wrapped around Howard's waist. Vince had never wanted something so much in if life, but there was still one issue that needed to be addressed.

"Lube!" Howard pressed against him with ferocity and he gasped. "We need lube! Hold on…"

His arm shot out to the side table that sat beside his bed while his other hand pushed against Howard's chest to keep him at bay. He blindly fumbled around, knocking things over and hearing them clatter to the ground. With effort he managed to locate and opened the drawer. He felt around the random jumble of makeup and half-empty hairspray cans while cursing himself for not keeping essential items like lube in a more accessible place.

Finally, after an eon, his fingers recognised the shape of a small tube that had been hiding beneath a bundle of magazines and fished it out victoriously.

His hands trembled as he unscrewed the cap of the tube.

Howard's nails bit into his thighs making Vince gasp in surprise. "Steady on" he hissed, "it's been a while since I've done this, okay? Give me a moment."

It had been a while. These days he'd had his fair share of trendy girls who would simper and strut. They were soft and always smelled nice. A few of them were even kinky enough to indulge in whips and spanking. However, it had definitely been a while since he'd been with a man. The two things weren't really comparable.

Sometimes you just needed a cock inside you.

"Ahh" the gel was like ice on his feverish skin. He worked within the small enclave their bodies had created and wondered idly if Howard wanted to do the honours with preparation.

Knowing Howard's track record for fumbling things, perhaps that wasn't the best idea.

He slathered a liberal amount along Howard's cock, making sure it was coated right to the base.

Howard made a groaning sound which Vince interpreted as encouragement and he felt hastened to hurry up. He leaned back as he started the awkward task of stretching himself. With another squirt from the tube he managed to get two fingers in with only minor discomfort. He trailed his other hand up and coated himself for good measure.

When it came to sex, the more lube the better.

He knew he needed more preparation than that, but quite frankly he didn't think he could wait any longer.

"Okay," he panted and lifted his hips for Howard. "Okay, I'm ready."

There wasn't an immediate push and thrust that Vince had been expecting. He supposed it was dark which made it difficult to see what to do and Howard was a beginner after all, so he gripped his friend around the base of his erection and guided him until it was pressing against his entrance.

"Fuck me _hard_ Howard."

There was a surge of movement and Vince tilted his head up, scrunching his eyes shut as he felt the first burn of intrusion. He huffed trying to relax his body, while he clung to Howard like his life depended on it. "Ahhh, oh god!" He moaned as Howard sank further into him. He flicked his ebony hair, now damp with perspiration, from his brow and arched his back at the intensity of the sensation.

It was like something snapped in Howard. There was no more passivity in him anymore. A primal creature had emerged and it filled the room with electric energy. That unexpected strength demonstrated itself once more and Vince was heaved higher up the wall. His legs were pushed further up Howard's sides and tested the limit of his flexibility.

There was a momentary pause which Vince used to let himself adjust and relax. Then, Howard did the most amazing thing with his hips. It was a carefully calculated roll that hit Vince in the most utterly perfect way.

His mouth hung slack in awe. How did Howard know how to do that? Until a few moments ago, he had been a blushing virgin (as far as Vince still knew), yet here he was demonstrating remarkable proficiency for a novice. Could it be - for all this time - underneath a cloak of jazz, tweed and stationary - had been laying this dormant sex god?

If so, then Vince was going to have him make up for a whole lot of lost time.

"Uh, oh, AHH!" He huffed and writhed.

Howard moved inside him in with a tireless pace.

Vince pressed his face into Howard's chest trying to muffle the louder of his exclamations and wrapped his arms around his friend's neck for support. This felt so good. Why did this feel so good?

The tempo began to increase. The bed shuddered and creaked with each thrust. The headboard thudded against the wall. It was all too much. Vince squeezed a hand between their slick bodies and stroked himself.

"Uhh Howard, YES!" The motion, the heat, the emotion all clashed together in a glorious crescendo and he came in violent spasms. He felt hot droplets coat his belly and trickle down his hand.

He could only hang limply to Howard as caught his breath and waited for his friend to finish. It didn't take much longer. He heard a drawn out groan and the movement eventually ebbed until they just clung to each other, frozen, in a suspended moment of time.

Howard pulled away.

Vince slid down the headboard. He was well and truly spent.

"That," he sighed as he felt the mattress sag with the weight of Howard next to him, "was fucking brilliant."

His whole body had turned to jelly. He could only manage to lie there with his arms splayed, waiting until he caught his breath. As his skin cooled the dreamy haze of his mind began to clear. The unwelcome return of reality crept up on Vince and his mouth turned down in a grimace. Did he just have sex with Howard? He turned he head to look at the dark figure sitting at the edge of his bed, hunched and motionless. It was strange, Vince thought. He'd always imagined Howard as the type of man who would want to cuddle after.

"Howard?"

No reply. The street light shining through the window illuminated the curve of his back. Vince grabbed some tissues from his side table and crawled over to place a kiss at the top of Howard's spine and massage his shoulders. "You might need these" he chuckled in an attempt to be jovial. "Howard?" He tried again. Even in the worst of times Howard had never given him the silent treatment like this before. It was unnerving him, so he scooted around to cup a bristled jaw in irritation. "Howard, are you listening to me?"

He had enough light now to see the details of Howard's face.

Howard appeared relaxed; his eyes looked straight ahead with a peculiar glazed and empty appearance.

Vince clicked his fingers in front of Howard's eyes. "Hullo, anyone in there?"

Nothing.

Vince was startled. He peered closer, scrutinising his friend's face and pinched his cheek. "Bloody hell Howard! You aren't – you aren't asleep are you?"

He pawed at his friend, trying to pry some sign of recognition from him. Vince pressed a palm to his own forehead at the prospect of having to use his brain to figure this out. Was it normal for a person to fall asleep upright like this? He considered shaking him awake but he was stopped by the vague memory of a proverb about sleep walkers. He didn't think he wanted to risk a hysterical Howard punching him in the face.

Then - to his absolute bewilderment - Howard stood upright. He could only watch as Howard pulled his pyjama bottoms back up and walked to the corner of the room where Vince had tossed his blue striped pyjama top.

"Are you awake now?" Vince scratched his head dumbly.

Howard only shrugged his top back on and buttoned it up with precision. He stood for a moment with a slight sway in his posture, until eventually he ambled back to his bed. It was a slow, zombie-like gait and his feet shuffled across the ground, not even lifting from the floor. He climbed into his bed in a comically fastidious fashion, and pulled the duvet up and over his body.

Vince blinked.

Howard lay in his bed with his eyes closed. He looked exactly like he had when they said goodnight earlier that evening. It was like nothing had even happened.

Like he hadn't climbed into Vince's bed and had sex with him.

Howard snored softly.

Vince hadn't slept for the rest of the night.

He had lain, staring up at the ceiling until he heard the first sounds of morning birds herald the dawn. It was so surreal he began to wonder if it had all been a dream.

An intensely realistic dream that had left him sticky, sore and naked in his bed.

It wasn't until morning sun filled the room that he really began to worry. Would Howard have any memory of the night's events? Would he suspect when he woke up suspiciously crusty and bruised? Vince pulled his blankets over his head and awaited his fate.

_Well_, he thought as he chewed his bottom lip, _I guess I can't tease Howard about his virginity anymore_.

Damn.


End file.
